


Dancing in Paris

by Wicked_Joker



Category: Dance - Fandom
Genre: Car Accident, Coma, Sexist, dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 12:41:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14057217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wicked_Joker/pseuds/Wicked_Joker
Summary: Paris Evans is an 18 year old who woke up after four months of being in a coma, with a new found passion for dance. His parents don't support him so he needs to take things into his own hands if he wants his dreams to come true.





	Dancing in Paris

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this has nothing to do with any fandom, in fact I wrote this in English class. There are probably a few spelling or grammar mistakes here and there, so if you catch them just let me know ^^

A bright light shone in my eyes, I wasn’t sure where I was. I looked around, blank faces stared at me, I tried to make out details of them but there was nothing. Bright red curtains were surrounding me, and a polished wooden floor under my feet. A figure stood between the curtains, I recognized it. But who it was, I did not know. Suddenly the lights became less blinding, and the figure began to move. It bent in all sorts of ways as it pranced across the wooden floor, never staying in one place for too long. One second it was on the floor, rolling and bending. The next it was standing, jumping through the air. I was so mesmerized by the movement, I hadn’t noticed when the figure was right in front of me.

The face was a blur, even though we were face to face. It was trying to say something, but all I heard was static. Suddenly a bright light surrounded me, I tried yelling out to the figure but it just faded into the light. My head started to spin so I closed my eyes, fear shuddered through my body. Suddenly I felt as though I was laying down, my head felt fuzzy, and I opened my eyes. A white tiled roof lay before me, and I was laying in a bed. I could hear a distant beeping along with a muffled voice. A weight fell on my hand, I wanted to look at what it was but my body felt so heavy. Where am I? 

A figure made its way into my view, pulling me out of my thoughts. The figure was a woman, one of which i’ve known since birth. I then realized the weight on my hand was her, holding my hand. I tried my best to squeeze it, though it was weak, she smiled at the action. Suddenly the door was opened and two men walked in, one in a white button up dress shirt, and the other in a white coat. The first came around the side of the bed to where my mother was, after closer inspection i realized it was my father. The other man went around to the other side, I turned my head in his direction to watch what he was doing. 

The man was looking at a screen and was tapping on a bag of water that was hanging, turns out it was connected to me. How did I not notice that? The beeping was coming from a screen that Had lines going across it, the lines were spiking in certain spots. A heart rate monitor. A sudden realization came to me, I was in a hospital. I began to panic, and questions started swarming my brain like a wildfire. Why am I here? How long have I been here? What happened to me? Why can’t I remember anything? Why does my body feel so heavy? 

The doctor seeming to notice my distress, decided to finally speak up. “Hello Paris, I am Doctor Marco.” He smiled, “I understand you have many questions right now, but we will get to those later. First we need to run a few tests on you to make sure you’re all good.” I nodded, not trusting my voice. If I even have one. A few nurses came in to help out with the tests, taking my blood, my temperature, asking how I was feeling, stuff like that. 

When the Doc finally deemed me ‘Okay’ we finally got to the questions nagging me. So far i’ve learned that i’ve been asleep for a long time, that i’ve been in some sort of accident, and that i’m going to have amnesia for a few days. With a bit of help I was sitting up in the hospital bed, in a very uncomfortable and revealing outfit. My parents were sitting in guest chairs, and the doc was sitting in a swivel chair. I cleared my throat before attempting to talk, even though I was given water my voice was still hoarse. 

“So, doc..” I began, “What happened to me?” 

I decided to start with the most obvious question, and probably the most important. After all i’m pretty sure ‘When can I get some food?’ Isn’t very on topic here. “Well,” Dr. Marco began, “You were in a car accident, a T-bone to be exact. And you’ve been in a coma for about 4 months now.” I knew that was coming but I still wasn’t prepared for it. When I was told I had been asleep for awhile I thought it would have been a few days, maybe a week at most. But four months!? What the hell? 

I looked down at my hands in my lap, more questions came to my mind. Was anyone with me? Did I hit someone or did someone hit me? Was the person in the other vehicle okay? Is my car completely ruined? Doctor Marco’s voice brought me out of my thoughts, I noticed teardrops on my hands. When did I start crying? “Now I know its hard, but you just have to bear with us here.” I nodded, and he continued, “The person in the other vehicle died at the scene, they had ran a red light and went right into the side of your car. No one else was injured.” At that I felt relief flood over me, yet dread still boiled in my stomach. Someone died. 

“S-so, when can I get out of here?” I stuttered, dammit. 

The doc rubbed his chin, “Since you’ve been bedridden for a while we will need to see if you are able to walk properly. If so then you can get out of here right away, but come back for check-ups once in a while. If not, then you would need to stay until we can get you on your feet.” I nodded, after stuttering like that i’m not gonna trust my voice. After sitting up for a while I feel alot better, so hopefully I have enough strength now to be able to stand. I swung my legs around so they were hanging off the side of the bed, Dr. Marco stood in front of me, ready to catch me if I fall. I used my arms to give myself a push, my feet hit the cold floor and I was up. I stumbled a bit and the Doctor needed to catch me, but I was standing!  
It took about an hour of me standing with assistance, then standing on my own, then walking with assistance, then walking on my own. After that whole ordeal I was finally allowed to get into my own clothes, instead of these scratchy, revealing, hospital clothes. Everyone left the room to give me some privacy, and I grabbed the clothes my mom had brought me. I was warned they wouldn’t fit the same they used to, but after putting them on and looking in the mirror, I was a lot more skinny than I had first thought. 

My belt couldn’t even go tight enough to fit around my waist. My shirt was so baggy, It looked like a stick was wearing it. The only thing that generally still fit was my shoes. My blonde hair had grown a lot too, before it was just covering my eyes, but now it’s down to my shoulders. Sighing I walked over to the door and opened it up, my parents were standing just outside of it waiting.

“You look so handsome, sweetheart, are you ready to go?” My mom cooed. 

“Looks like you’re going to need a haircut.” My dad said while patting my boney shoulder. I rolled my eyes at them and started to walk towards the hospital entrance/exit. I just want to go home.

The car ride was long and uneventful, since we lived in a small town I was taken to the hospital in the city to be treated. The hospital in our town doesn’t exactly have the right accommodations. Not like i’m judging. I tried remembering what home looked like, I couldn’t remember certain details but I did remember parts. I wondered if any of my friends had come to visit me, there weren’t any flowers or balloons when I woke up. Maybe I didn’t have friends.

We pulled up to the driveway of a house, my house, it was an older modeled house. Some of it was made of brick and some of it was made of wood, gardens and flowers lined the front yard with a stone pathway going through the middle, leading to the front door. Barking could be heard from the back yard, Karma! Karma was a siberian husky mixed with a great pyrenees, so he was really big. When I opened the gate to the yard he immediately jumped on me and started licking my face. He had always liked me the most, so after not seeing me for four months really must have been hard. Even though it was practically nothing to me it was a long time for him, well I think, i’m not actually sure how that whole dog years thing works. 

Opening the door to my house, it was like I was opening the door to a strangers house. I recognized some things but, a lot of it was a hazy mess in my mind. Walking to my room was really just muscle memory, the room was clean, my parents probably cleaned it for me. God, I really hope I get my memories back soon. 

Supper was uneventful, my parents asked questions, I answered them. I asked questions, my parents answered them. Apparently a few people had stopped by, my class made a card for me, I didn’t recognize any of the names. From the looks of it they just signed cause they had to, only two or three signatures came with a message. The only one that stood out was from someone by the name of Vasco? What kind of name is Vasco? Then again, what kind of name was Paris?

When I got into bed it kind of felt like how you would feel when you were having a sleepover, and you were sleeping in someone else's bed. It just didn’t feel right. I glanced up at the clock 11:15, Just try to fall asleep. I thought to myself as I closed my eyes. Before I knew it, I was out like a light, straight into the dreamscape that was my mind. I woke up in a wheat field, I looked around but there was nothing but wheat for miles, the sky was a bright sky blue with a few fluffy clouds here and there. I tried speaking but nothing came out, I tried to stand up but the air felt thick and heavy, it was as if I was wearing a weighted vest.

I took another 360 on the spot, nothing was different other than the swaying of the plants in the calm breeze. It was nice and relaxing, until a huge gust of wind picked up and wheat started to be torn from the ground. It flew through the air along with the wind, and the wheat bunching up in a spot it started to look somewhat like a person. A realization hit me, it was the same figure I saw when I was in my coma! 

It was bending and jumping, just like it had been before. It was dancing. The figure walked up in front of me, its wheat body was mesmerizing to watch. It placed its index finger on my forehead and a light enveloped me, it felt as if things were rushing into me. Words, phrases, sights, smells, everything was coming back to me. 

I jolted awake to the sound of my blaring alarm clock, I hit the snooze button in a rush to turn it off. I looked around the room, suddenly everything didn’t feel so different. I could remember the memories that came with the trinkets that lined my shelfs, or the posters on my walls. Everything had a memory attached to it, and I could remember that memory. 

I got up and got dressed, my usual routine for getting up was muscle memory at this point, no need for remembering it. I walked out into the kitchen, while putting my hair up in a ponytail, about to make breakfast when the smell of my moms homemade pancakes hit me like a truck, he hadn’t had those in a long time. My parents were so happy to have me home, they said I didn’t have to go to school since I had missed so much. But i’m going to go so I can grab the stuff in my locker, also I want to see how many people will actually care i’m there. 

Since my car was a total wreck, My dad said he would drive me. Speaking of my car being a total wreck, I need to bring it into the repair shop. I had gotten money from the family of the guy who crashed into me, but I really don’t want to use it. The guy died for christs sake! It’s like using a dead guys money, money that could be put put towards the guys funeral, of if he had kids, or something like that. It just felt wrong.

Pulling up to school, nothing’s changed, Kids coming in from either walking, taking the bus, or driving. All mindless drones doing what they’ve been forced to do for years. I walked in and nobody even gave me a second glance, I doubt anybody even knows me. I walked up the stairs, my muscle memory bringing me to my dented locker and opening the lock for me. It was empty aside for my textbooks, gym clothes, a lunch from who knows how long ago, and a hoodie. My bag and binders were with me in my car when I crashed.

While gathering my stuff I felt a pair of eyes watching me, I turned to look around but nobody in particular was looking my way. I tried to shrug it off but the feeling stayed with me, while I was throwing out my stanky ass lunch the feeling finally left me. Weird. I went to the library to drop off my text books, then made my way to the office. I missed 3 months of school, I finished first semester but I missed a lot in second semester. My options were to take it online so I could still move on, take summer school, or take the classes again next year. 

I really don’t want to be stuck with a bunch of people from the lower grades, it was bad enough when I was held back when I was in grade 5. So I might as well take it online. By time everything was done and settled it was lunchtime, so the hallways were crowded and again, I felt eyes on me. I went out the front doors and somebody was following me, I turned around really quick so maybe I could catch a glance at who it could have been. Nobody? I turned back and started to walk, straight into someone. I backed up a few steps, the person I walked into was tall, maybe 6’2 or 6’3? He was wearing a white tank top and tattoos lined his muscled arms, he had a flannel tied around his waist, wore blue jeans rolled up at the bottoms, and had combat boots on. I looked up to his face, and oh man, he was scary. He had long brown hair up in a ponytail but the sides and back were shaved down. He was korean, you could tell from his eyes, and he had a small amount of facial hair on his chin. 

“S-sorry.” I stuttered and took a few more steps back. This guy looked like the kind of guy that would start a fight for no reason. 

“Hi,” The guy started “I’m Vasco.” He smiled and stuck out his hand. Wait, this kid was Vasco? 

“Wait, you’re Vasco?” I questioned, hesitantly taking his hand. “You’re the guy with the really long paragraph on the card I got!” 

Vasco grinned, “Glad to see you’re up and out of the hospital.” He shook my hand and let go, damn he’s got a strong grip. I smiled, it’s good to see that at least one person cares about me. The only other people that cared were some of the teachers.

I heard a honking from the distance, my dad still must be waiting for me. “I gotta go, my names Paris by the way, it was nice to meet you Vasco.” 

Vasco waved, “See ya around, Paris.” I turned and walked to the car, locker items in hand. I got into the car, and threw my stuff onto the backseat. Next stop was the barber shop, my dad doesn’t like my hair being this long. 

He said “A man shouldn’t have hair like a girl, it’s not manly.” Which in my opinion is complete bullshit, somebody should be able to have any hair they want.

I ended up getting my haircut to its usual length, just above my eyes. While it was getting cut I ended up watching whatever was showing on the TV, it was showing a dance competition. The category was contemporary, the people were dancing the same way as in my dream! It had a lot more feeling with the music attached to it, everything was timed perfectly, had dramatic moves, it was completely mesmerizing.

When we finally got home my mom was sitting on the couch watching a show, I threw my old gym clothes downstairs to get washed. I sat in an armchair in the living room, coincidently she was watching the same show that was playing in the barber shop. I swallowed a knot in my throat and spoke up, “Mom, I want to do something like that.” She looked at me, eyes wide, “you want to do what?” She asked. I pointed at the TV where a woman was doing a complicated move while in the splits, “That.” I said.

My mom looked at the TV for a while, I was about to ask again when she spoke up, “No Paris, men don’t do contemporary dancing.” 

I frowned, “Why not? I know its what im supposed to-!” I was cut off by my mom’s hand slamming down on the small table next to the couch, “Men do not do dance! They do sports! How the hell do you think it's what you’re ‘supposed to do’!?” She yelled. 

I was hurt, I thought my mom would accept it. She had always been accepting of what i’ve wanted to do, so why? 

“I know it’s what i’m supposed to do because i’ve dreamt about it in my coma, i’ve dreamt about it in my dreams at night, there have been signs that I should do that!” My voice started out calm but I couldn’t help but turn it into a yell. I never thought about this before, but, I think my parents are sexist.

“No, Paris, that’s my final answer.” Her voice was deathly calm, in my experience that's when you give up the argument.

“Fine.” I stood up from my spot and walked to my room, if my parents won’t sign me up so I can learn professionally, then i’ll just teach myself. I grabbed my laptop off my desk and sat on my bed, I pulled youtube and searched up ‘How to contemporary dance for beginners’. I clicked the first video that came up. The gist of it is that I have to be able to do cartwheels, handstands, teddy bear stands, bridges, and stuff like that. Another thing i’m going to have to learn to do is the splits, can guys even do the splits?

I searched up videos of guys doing contemporary and it seemed pretty easy. They bent in every way a girl could they even did oversplits. I guess another thing i’m going to have to do is gain some muscle, these guys are ripped. I put my hand around my arm, there wasn’t and meat or muscle there so my hand could go around the full arm with room to spare. 

Since that day I had gone out to the park and practiced, it was empty because school was still in. When I wasn’t practicing I was doing online school, or lifting weights. I even created a diet plan for myself so I could gain weight, but not too much weight. It was about a month in, I had perfected my two handed cartwheel and now i’m working on my close handed one. I’ve almost gotten my splits and im working on my straddle teddy bear stand.

One day my mom had asked me to get groceries from the store for her, so being the good son I was, I went. After grabbing everything I started heading to the checkout, and of course I i had to bump into someone. Knowing my luck, it was someone I knew. As soon as I looked up I recognized who it was, the coveralls, the white tanktop, and the ponytail. I guess it could have been worse. “Sorry!” I exclaimed.

Vasco turned around and stared at me for a few seconds before his face lit up, “Oh, Paris! It’s been awhile, looks like you’ve gained some weight!” Vasco cheered. For someone so scary looking he was just like a little kid. “Ah, yea.” I scratched the back of my head, “I’ve been trying to work out recently but it’s not really doing anything.” I looked up at Vasco’s muscled body, “How are you so fit?” I asked. 

Vasco smiled, “I do one hundred pushups, one hundred situps, one hundred squats, and a 10km run everyday.” My jaw dropped at that, how? “If you want, you can join me in the mornings.” Vasco offered. 

I nodded, “Y-yea! Sure!” 

Since that day, in the mornings i’ve been working out with Vasco, then i was practice, then I would work on school work. I’m almost never home anymore, and when I am i’m either sleeping or in my room. A few months later school was over, I could do center splits, side splits, open splits, close handed cartwheel, almost an ariel, i could do a walking handstand, I could hold a chest stand, and whole bunch of other things. The only thing I don’t have yet is the ability to put it all together. I had watched a bunch of videos, and I ended up copying one of the dances that I watched.

After working out with Vasco one day he had asked me, “Why are you training so hard?” I hadn’t told him about the dancing, so far the only thing i’ve gotten from it was criticism. Vasco seemed different from everyone else though, he seemed like someone who would support others, stand up for them even. So I decided, that i’d tell him, “I’m trying to learn to dance, and I need strength to be able to do it. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, it’s just a lot of people criticize me for it.”

I looked up to see Vasco’s face awestruck, “Can I see?” He asked, definitely wasn’t expecting that.

I never had an audience watching me before, when I started playing the music I was so nervous. Vasco was sat on the grass watching me as I attempted the dance I was practicing, it wasn’t anywhere near perfect but he still clapped. It made me happy that someone supported me. “So what do you think?” I asked.

“That was amazing!” Vasco cheered, “Where’d you learn to do all that?” 

I blushed a the praise “I, uh, I taught myself.” I rubbed the back of my neck, because my parents don’t support me. “I borrowed this dance from someone else because I don’t really know how to make one of my own.” I looked at Vasco, he was sitting there with his fingers on his chin, thinking. What was he thinking about? 

“I’ve got a friend that choreographs dances, I can probably get him to help you.” Vasco smiled as he talked.

“Wait- You’d really do that for me?” I questioned.

“Yea, course!” Vasco smiled and took out his phone, checking the time. “I can get him here the same time tomorrow?” 

I nodded, “Yeah, yeah! Sure! Thank you so much Vasco!” I smiled.

I ended up hanging out with Vasco for the whole day that day, at first it was just showing him the full extent of what I could do, and then we ended up grabbing something to eat, then we went to see a movie. Vasco was turning out to be a great friend, my only friend. Apparently Vasco had wanted to befriend me for a while now, but the day he was going to approach me I hadn’t showed up for school, or the day after, or the day after that. When he had asked a teacher where I was that was when he was told I was in a coma. He’s the one who came up with the idea of the card, and he got everyone in my grade to sign it.

Vasco ended up taking me home on his motorcycle, motorcycle, Vasco had a fucking motorcycle. At first the ride was scary, but soon after I started to relax and enjoy the ride. The warm wind blowing on my face, the quiet the helmet provided, it was amazing. Only thing that bugged me was that, I think Vasco was making sharper turns than usual just to freak me out.

Arriving at my house, Vasco let me keep with helmet, saying he didn’t use it anyway. Bullshit. I went inside my house and my parents were watching the window. “Um, hello?” I greeted, trying to get their attention.

“Honey, who was that?” My mom questioned.

“A friend, his names Vasco.” I explained, throwing the helmet on my bed in my room. I then went to scavenge for food in the kitchen.

“How long have you been hanging out with him for?” She questioned again.  
“A few months.”  
“Why haven’t you told us about him?”  
“Never asked.”  
My mom huffed a sigh, “What’s gotten into you lately? You’ve been so distant, you’re never home, when you are, you’re always in your room. Are you keeping something from us Paris?”  
“Nothing’s going on mom.” I deadpanned.  
My mom sighed again, “Well, suppers almost ready.” I nodded and closed the fridge, heading off to my room to work on my online schoolwork.

The next day, I had worked out with Vasco as usual, then we had waiting for his friend to arrive. When he did, I wasn’t expecting him to be wearing a baggy sweater with his hood up over his hat, sunglasses, and sweatpants. It’s 35 degrees out for christs sake! We had worked throughout the whole day, we had gotten about halfway through a routine that Vasco’s friend, James, had come up with.

It was completely out of my comfort zone, moves I had never seen before. It was a good thing we had moved to the park to practice the tricks, because was it not for the sand I would have broke my neck multiple times. I had gotten home at about eleven pm, I had shot them a text saying I would have been late coming home, but I guess they were still disappointed. 

James had come about everyday that week as well as the next, it was hard work but i’ve almost perfected the dance by now. Just a few things needed to be worked on, like pointed town, straight legs in certain spots, bent legs in certain spots, things like that. 

Today went as usual, work out, work on the dance, hang out for a bit, the usual. But one thing wasn’t usual, and that was the fact that my parents had followed me. When I had gotten home, my parents weren’t there. I thought they were working or went out for supper or something, but soon after I had gotten home they walked in the door looking down right pissed.

I was about to ask them where they had been before my mom spoke up, “Paris Daniel Evans, you are grounded.” Her voice was stern. I looked at my dad, who had a disappointed look on his face.  
“Why am I grounded?” I questioned  
“You know damn well why. Now go to your room, you sorry excuse of a son.” She snarled.  
Did they find out about me dancing? How? Did someone tell them? “Go!” My mom screeched and pointed in the direction of my room. I obeyed and went to my room, closing the door behind me. 

I sat on the floor in front of the door, so if someone wanted to open it, they couldn’t. If they know about my dancing, they’ll probably keep me locked up until I give it up. There was a knock on the door, and I wiped the tears and snot from my face. “What do you want?” My voice was shaky, I was surprised I didn’t stutter.  
“Let me in, Paris.” It was my dad.  
“Go away.”  
“Listen, I know you’ve been dancing. And I know that your mother doesn’t want you to.” My dad explained, “So if you ever want to be ungrounded, you’re going to have to give up on it. You know how stubborn she is with these types of things.” 

“Just fuck off, and leave me alone!” I yelled through the door. I heard a sigh and then receding footsteps. I ended up being locked in my room for about a week, only coming out for food and water. I got a bunch of calls from Vasco, and some from james, probably worried about where I am.

Vasco had come to the door once, asking my parents where I was. They said I was grounded and that I wasn’t going to be ungrounded until I gave up on dancing. Another week passed by and I couldn’t take it anymore, I exited my room and went up to my mom. “I’ll give up dancing.” In said, though it broke my heart. 

I was allowed out after that, I explained to Vasco about my situation. At first he was hurt I hadn’t told him, but he understood. Sometimes I would practice, but never for long in fear my parents would find out again. 

One day Vasco came up to me with an idea, “What if we were to prove to your parents that you really love dancing, and that you’re really good at it?”  
It was a good idea really, “But how would we do that?” I questioned. He held up a flyer and grinned, the flyer was for a dancing competition being held. Said that it was going to be broadcasted, and since my mom always watches dancing shows, she’s going to be watching it. If not i’ll set it to record on the pvr. 

I smiled, “Lets do it.” 

The entrance fee was 50$ but that wasn’t too hard to get, if I were to win the prize was 5000$. I snuck out that night, telling my parents I was going to hang out with Vasco, which in all honesty was the truth. We took his motorcycle there, and good thing because parking was terrible, we had to squeeze into a very tight spot. A lot of people were there and I had to hurry to register.

I was contestant number 23, out of 59. I gave them my music and went back to the practice area where Vasco and James were waiting for me. We went over the dance a couple times, I hadn’t done it in a while but it was still good and I remembered all of it. 

The time came when it was my turn to go up, my music started. My dance was complicated and full of tricks yet still went to the music, at the climax of the song I did a jette. I ended the dance with a back handspring into a backflip and landing with my back arched. I was exhausted by time I was done but the crowd was cheering, I really hope my mom was watching this. 

I hadn’t ended up winning, and when I got home my mom was watching a different show with my dad. When she goes on the pvr recordings she’ll see it and watch it. When I woke up that morning it was to the sound of my mom screaming my name, I hurriedly got up and out of bed. My mom was watching my dance, and she was smiling.

“Yes mom?” I asked.  
“Is this you?” She pointed at the tv where I was dancing.  
“Y-yea. Thats me.” I rubbed the back of my neck.  
“Hunny, this is amazing! I had no idea you were this good!” She cheered.  
“Are you going to let me keep dancing-?” I wondered, looking at the ground.  
“Yes! Sweetheart yes!” My mother gleaned, and I smiled I was happy.

After that whole ordeal, my mom put me in actual classes for me to learn properly. I started doing competitions and winning them, Vasco cheered me on and James taught me how to choreograph my own dances. Things were finally starting to turn around.

**Author's Note:**

> The Dance Paris was doing at the competition is based off of Nick Daniels World of Dance Qualifiers. 
> 
> Leave a kudos if you'd like, and again leave a comment if you notice and grammar or spelling mistakes :)


End file.
